Act 1: The Red Carpet
WTF is this? A red carpet “live pre-show” it appears. Whatever. The stars of seasons past are arriving, bloated on their own false senses of celebrity, forgetting for a moment that they are W-list TV stars with an average of 1.8 STDs each. A bunch of unemployed hospitality majors clad in jewel tones and baubles are behind the stanchions emitting squeals. In particular, the one in the orange scarf could use a good knee-breaking.
Next up is Chris’ introduction montage. He’s sniffing some crops, shoveling some feed, gazing at some fields. I think he is a farmer or something. Is he a farmer? We learn about the big catch, which is that the bachelorette of his choice is headed home to the saddest town ever with a whopping population of 400. He goes into the local tavern and talks farmer talk with some older dudes; a coffee urn from like 1918 is plugged in next to him. Chris tells the men the show is “the best way to find love.” Chris, do you watch this show? I do. You would clean UP on Farmersonly.com so really you’d be better off with that option. He drives off in a motorcycle. The license plate reads Rose1. No actually it doesn’t but it should. IT SHOULD.
Back to the red carpet. Still 48 minutes until the limos arrive, a countdown clock tells me. This is painful. And yet, glorious.
Act 2: Meet the Floozies
Britt, a waitress. Wears a lot of make up when she goes for a hike. Owns Lisa Frank backpack. Likes hugs. Journals.
By the grace of DVR I was able to read her innermost thoughts, although the picture is not clear enough to convey them. Lots of blah blah blah new beginning blah blah it’s finally happening blah blah. Her last line was simply: “I have no idea”. Such a fitting thought to end on that I could not have dreamed it more perfectly myself.
Jillian, a news producer with terrible form in her back handsprings. Oh baby here we go, WORKPLACE FOOTAGE. She spews some industry jargon– “Hey Dave I need that D-roll for oh-eight-hundred! Where are we on that Q5! Stat!” Oh God she’s into Crossfit. I wish heartbreak on her.
Amanda, ballet teacher with the eyes of a meth-addicted jackal, henceforth Crazy Eyes I.
Whitney, fertility nurse with the voice of a Muppet. Actual quote: “I have no idea why I’m not meeting the right guys in Chicago. It’s just, you know, sometimes these crazy boys just do not want to settle down.” Right Whitney, the problem is with all four million men in Chicago and not the one you. This woman totally has a deep freeze full of sperm samples she stole from work. You know she’s named them and throws birthday parties for them and picks out one special tube to sleep next to every night.
Mackenzie, the obligatory single mom. Her son is named– well I’m really hoping it’s Cael– but it’s pronounced KALE. He’s actually adorable and I don’t hate her that much. What’s a little unsettling though is he is like 13-months-old so he was what, like 6-months-old back when she was cast? OK.
Alissa, a flight attendant, fulfilling another obligatory role– the fetish profession. She’s set up by the producers to recite some of the worst schtick in Bachelor schtick history. Goes up the row of the plane handing out roses. LOOK AT THIS GUY’S SIDE EYE. HE FEELS MY PAIN.
Kelsey, a widow with a heartbreaking story, rendering her unsnarkable. Actually she seems cool so I wouldn’t have a lot to snark on anyway.
Act 3: Floozies on Wheels
And with the limos’ arrivals comes by far the most painful part of every first episode. I felt these arrivals were pretty uneventful. They all pause in the doorway of the limo, walk over saying “Hiiiiiiiiiii”, then try to spend 30 seconds being cute and seductive but end up being not cute and creepy. And awkward. And nervous. And just… I don’t know it’s generally very uncomfortable to watch.
Britt starts things off strong by crying, panting, and failing to release the hug. We meet the requisite hair stylist, make up artist, professional sports cheerleader, dance instructor, and bartender. Reegan is a cadaver tissue specialist who makes me seethe with rage by choosing for her gimmick to bring a biohazard cooler with a fake heart organ– this is VERY professional and VERY respectful of the gravity and solemnity of the organ donation process. Tara is a “sport fishing enthusiast” right OK terrific. Ashley S., hair stylist, has something not right about her– unbalanced meds? Untreated concussion? A brain full of pumpkin pulp? I don’t know but she is henceforth Crazy Eyes II.
The obligatory big twist for this season premiere is that they cast five extra chicks so the competition is steeper by five more people. No joke, when the last five show up in the OMG SURPRISE EXTRA LIMO, the theme music from Intervention is playing. No seriously go listen. The chicks inside are very worked up about this and lurk in the windows looking not creepy whatsoever:
Not much talent in the last five. Carly, a cruise ship singer? AWFUL. This part is over. Thank you God/Chris Harrison.
Act 4: Floozies and the Art of Conversation
Actual statements from the floozie brigade:
“Wait what’s alfalfa? Is it organic?”
“I’m a [bleeping] train wreck.” Valid statement.
From an assembled group: “It’s red like a life jacket… I didn’t know life jackets were red… No aren’t they orange?… No they’re red.” For this stupidity, may you all be caught unexpectedly in a squall with none on board. It’s humankind’s only hope. Good bye.
Katelyn, dance instructor, who earlier in the night told a dirty joke about a walrus, gives a dance lesson. Snooze. This exact scene has played out in every first episode in the show’s history. Crazy Eyes II is telling elaborate allegories about onions, accosting pomegranate trees, and wandering off-camera during her interviews. One girl tells Chris a story about how she tried to go somewhere, got overwhelmed trying to park, and went home and cried. YOU’RE SO ATTRACTIVE AS A MATE RIGHT NOW. The girls are at each other’s throats trying to “steal him away for a minute” and I’m reminded of those National Geographic Yellowstone documentaries where billy goats get into fights.
Actual statements from our bachelor Chris:
“I wish I was a polygamist right now.”
“A lot of these women have the qualities I’m looking for in a future wife.” WTF QUALITIES ARE THOSE? Bad social skills, questionable employment, substance abuse issues, prone to nervous breakdowns when parking a car, strong ability to tell uncomfortable jokes about marine mammals?
Chris enters the common room and summons the girls for the rose ceremony. They swarm him like a pack of starved koi going after a Cheerios fragment.
Act 5: Flora for the Floozies
The producers have decided the big intrigue of the rose ceremony is going to be Tara, the sports fishing enthusiast, who is filling the role of Obligatory Night 1 Drunkard. They have, to my delight, perched her on the top riser and they keep cutting to her feet which keep buckling and stumbling. Imagine a popcorn eating GIF here. That’s me. The music is building up to something and I am just hoping it’s going to be her nosediving off the riser or her puking on the girls below her. I am giddy with anticipation.
Chris pauses the ceremony dramatically and retreats to the Picture Frame Room with Chris Harrison. He indicates he planned to give Fish Enthusiast Tara a rose, but now seeing her drunken conduct, he’s reconsidering. Also, she enthuses fish for a living. He rationalizes: “It’s a long night. It’s tough.” No Chris it shouldn’t be that tough to meet the basic standards required of a functional adult– i.e. ability to hold oneself upright in an ambulatory or standing position– for like the 5 hours it takes to film this circus.
Tara gets a rose. So does Carly the cruise singer and Kaitlyn of walrus joke infamy. I lose any expectations I had for Chris’ good judgment.
A bunch of rejected chicks get interviewed on their way out. Lots of tears. Lots of miscarriages of justice.
See you next week.